An Emerald Christmas
by Nathaniel Cardeu
Summary: A Hermione-centric Christmas adventure. Hermione has had enough of the Weasleys. Servering her ties with them she takes a holiday to get away & rethink things. What she finds brings many surprises, dangers & one of her best Christmas surprises ever. HG/SF
1. We All Fall Sometimes

**An Emerald Christmas**

**Story Notes:**

Disclaimer: I own nothing! The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story.

The plot and characterisations associated with this story are the authors own mad ramblings and should be taken as such!

Many thanks to my Beta – Kissy Fishy – for agreeing to read another one of my stories for me!

SPOLIER ALERT: Please note that there are spoilers in this story. If you haven't read "Deathly Hallows" then parts of this story will give away certain events, mainly by telling you who died.

**Chapter 1: We All Fall Sometimes**

She sighed in annoyance, glaring at the recumbent red head, sprawled in one of the Leaky Cauldron's private booths. She was fed up with having to do this every Christmas. Ron said he was paranoid about splinching and so rarely Apparated - he also avoided the question of using the Floo Network to reach Diagon Alley. As for the rest of the Weasley family… well, they had their own problems at the moment. So it was left to her to collect this particular son. Again.

"Every bloody Christmas!" she said. With a growl of annoyance (one that made Tom, the barman, concentrate more determinedly on cleaning the glass he was holding) Hermione stomped forward and jabbed the flame haired body in front of her with her wand. Sparks cascaded over the man's t-shirt and he jerked, bashing his head on the underside of the table. "Wassh-it!" he mumbled, trying to sit up.

The empty bottle of firewhiskey that sat in the middle of the table told a tale, but not the full reason for it. Hermione felt herself weaken in her anger as the drunken man sat up, blearily looking for his assailant. He smiled lopsidedly when he saw her. "M'ney! Have drink wiv me?"

He hadn't shaved for at least a week from the look of him. His clothes were rumpled as if he had slept in them on more than one occasion. Closing her eyes against the prickle of tears that came unbidden, Hermione shook her head and said gently, "Come on George. It's time to go home."

"Home?" the dishevelled man slurred. "Whas homely 'bout it? Huh!" Swaying in his seat he reached for the bottle and knocked it off the table, wincing as it smashed onto the floor. "Ansher me that, Mi'ney! Mum shouts… Dad shouts… everyone's s-s-so fuckin' angry… all the time." George's face seemed to crumple as tears fell. "I miss 'im so much, M'one."

Unable to stop them now, the tears fell in a quiet stream from Hermione's eyes. She clenched her hands into fists and felt the decoration on her wand biting into her palm. Her nails dug deep into her other palm as she stared at the ceiling, blinking rapidly.

Every fucking Christmas!

Things had been good, relatively speaking, after Voldemort's death. Lives had started to rebuild themselves again in the wake of the devastation. The many deaths from the battle had been mourned. She had attended almost all of the funerals, in honour of those who had fought; Tonks, Remus, little Colin Creevy, Severus, Fred… But there were so many others - names she could barely remember, people she had, maybe, seen in the halls but had never spoken to. All casualties of the war. Collateral damage.

She had cried at every one of them. Fred's funeral had been the most intense; clinging to Ron, comforting each other at the loss of such a bright and fun loving person. The sights of Molly simply sitting there, limply gazing at the coffin containing her son, and of Arthur, his head bowed, tears silently falling at the words spoken in honour of Fred, still haunted her. Percy, Bill, Charlie – all of the Weasley men there to mourn a loss so personal, so awful, that it tore the heart in two. Ginny sat with Harry; both of them quiet and dignified, but Ginny's eyes haunted Hermione still. One of her favourite brothers was gone and a part of her seemed to have died as well that day.

But it was George that had suffered the most it seemed. Whilst the rest of the family tried to return to a semblance of normality, he had never recovered from Fred's death. And, in truth, was Hermione expecting too much of him? It _had_ only been three years since the battle and that was a very short time to get over the loss of a brother, never mind a twin!

And it had only gotten worse for the Weasley family. Mr and Mrs Weasley started to argue more; proper arguments, not the good natured bickering of a long married couple. The reasons for the fighting were relatively minor, but each one attacked with a vengeance.

Then they had received the news, the year after the war had ended, that Bill and Fleur had split up and were getting a divorce. Right before Christmas time. Molly had immediately begun saying how she had been right, that they had married too quickly because of the war. This started another round of fighting, with Bill and Mr Weasley arguing with Mrs Weasley and Ginny. It had been an awful Christmas; the second in a row as far as Hermione was concerned. George had been depressed and drunk for most of that year too, which hadn't helped anyone. Verity, the shop assistant at the Weasley brothers' store, was being run ragged trying to keep the shop going without George at the helm.

Last year there hadn't been any bad news, for a change. Hermione had completed her 7th year at Hogwarts and graduated as she had wanted to do and hoped that Christmas that year would be a much happier affair. But the hurt feelings had lasted all year and Christmas had been a strained few days. Harry and Ron had avoided everything by going out to play Quidditch, which was just typical. Ginny and Molly were overly polite to Bill and Arthur, and their false smiles were fooling no-one. The atmosphere was as frosty as the dead of winter.

Charlie hadn't turned up because of the fighting and George, once again, had been in a drunken stupor and lashed out when anyone tried to talk to him.

That had left Hermione talking to Percy for most of the afternoon. Merlin, what an awful Christmas it had been! Percy had leapt in with the continuing saga of _"Regulations for the Importation of Magical Ingredients from Europe"_, which the Minister had asked him to oversee with a foreign dignitary of some kind… Hermione had felt her mind go blank after a few minutes. She was sure that Percy had started this same story last year! It never seemed to end!

Hermione eventually went home at the end of the day with one of the worst headaches she had ever experienced. Nothing she had said or tried, all through the day, had made the slightest difference. The whole family had been so determined to ignore the problem that they had turned temporarily deaf when she brought it up.

She vowed to Ron, before she left, that she wasn't doing it again. She couldn't take another year like it; collecting George, coping with the atmosphere at the Burrow, listening to Percy's boring stories. She promised him that if things didn't change then she wouldn't be coming to the Burrow next year. She was sick to death of putting on a brave face and watching everyone ignore the elephants crammed in every damn corner of the house!

Ron hadn't been all that supportive in truth, defending his family with his usual vigour; this was, of course, because he was desperately trying to ignore the elephants too. It had led to the two of them not speaking, or even seeing each other, for a week. Eventually Ginny and Harry had talked Ron into apologising and life returned to normal.

But here they were again; nearly 12 months on, with the same scenario staring her in the face. Collect George, return to the Burrow and cope with all the shit.

But it was going to be better this year. Oh by all the magic in the universe was it better this year! Ginny had just announced that she was pregnant!

Total accident, whoops! Sorry!

Now Harry was in the firing line, being shunned as the despoiler of the Weasley's only daughter, Ginny herself was spending most of her time throwing up. Ron was disgusted with them both and what Mrs Weasley had to say on the subject couldn't be repeated.

Not this time. Not again! Angrily dashing the tears from her eyes Hermione reached out for George's arm. "Come on George. Please? Molly's waiting for you." She hated the way her voice broke slightly, desperately wanting to be strong, to get this over with so she could go home. George stood, swaying unsteadily on shaky legs.

"Take me now or lose me f'rever," he mumbled with a sickly grin.

Sighing heavily Hermione flashed a tight smile and a nod at Tom. Pointing her wand at the broken bottle she repaired it and lifted it onto the table again. Then, gripping George and feeling him hold her in return, she Disapparated with a sharp CRACK.

In the quiet of the now empty Leaky Cauldron, Tom put down the thoroughly rubbed tumbler. Shuffling around the edge of the bar he approached the table and collected George Weasley's glass and empty bottle. He liked that Hermione girl – very pretty, always polite. Shame that Weasley boy was falling apart; Tom liked him too. Ah well, it wasn't for him to worry about it.

It was the same thing, every bloody Christmas though.

Hermione wiped her eyes again. Ron had left for the Burrow a couple of hours ago, via the Floo Network, with Hermione's shouts still ringing in his ears. Since then she had spent most of her time curled up in her armchair, crying. Drawing in a deep breath, she tried to steady herself.

So that was it: Ron and Hermione were no more. Well, they were on a break as far as Ron was concerned but Hermione… she wasn't sure that it wasn't completely over. Especially as she hated Ronald Weasley's guts right now, the spineless little mummy's boy.

She had arrived at the Burrow and staggered in, George draped around her shoulders, to find the little house in complete chaos. Mrs Weasley was yelling at, a distinctly green, Ginny; Harry was determinedly ignoring Ron's attempt at an icy glare; Mr Weasley was arguing semi- quietly with Bill, something to do with a letter from Fleur.

Hermione just stared at the scene for a full minute, unnoticed, before she dragged George to the sofa and dropped him into it.

"Than's Hermony," he mumbled as he turned over, "Tell Fred I gave Ver'ty the day off." With that he began to snore softly into the cushions.

"Ron!" she said, in a freezing cold voice. Her tone cut across the arguments and everyone turned, surprised to see her there. "Can I see you outside, please?" She tried for a smile but quickly gave it up when it felt false, even to her.

As everyone else mumbled indistinct greetings, Ginny took advantage of Molly's diverted attention and ran from the table, heading for the bathroom. Harry started to go after her but stopped suddenly as Mrs Weasley turned her attention to him. Casting one last glare at the back of Harry's head, Ron slunk over to Hermione and attempted to kiss her on the cheek. Turning swiftly, her bushy hair flicking out and whipping across Ron's face, Hermione avoided the kiss and stalked back out of the front door.

Hermione grabbed Ron and Disapparated the pair of them back to her flat. Here they argued, well – she shouted really; Ron just sat there looking sheepish for the most part. She told him that she wanted to do something different, take a holiday, go somewhere else this year; anything but go to the Burrow again! Ron mumbled something about needing to "be there for the family."

This comment did nothing but bring up old hurts and arguments from the past. It was always family first, she raged at him, her feelings were never considered! Every year, every other _month_, there was something that the family did that took precedent over any plans that Hermione might have made. She was always last in his thoughts!

The argument lasted for a couple of days until, finally; on the 22nd December, Ron made his last mistake. He arrived in the morning to say that they definitely couldn't do anything different. They had to go to the Burrow again this year because Mr Weasley was going in to work; Bill was moping over Fleur and this mysterious letter; Harry was still a pariah and restricted to helping Ginny with her morning sickness. To cap it all, George had gone back to the Leaky Cauldron, no doubt to try and finish off his liver once and for all.

"Mum needs us 'Mione," he said, his voice pleading for understanding.

It had taken Hermione a couple of hours to restore her flat to a sensible state after the outburst that followed this statement. Ron's time as Keeper for the school's Quidditch team had served him well; he'd managed to avoid most of the ornaments Hermione had flung at him. She had cried and that had made her angrier at him – he was still putting the family first and she knew that he always would.

Ron, however, seemed incapable of realising this small fact and Hermione had finally said that if he couldn't support her in this, then they might as well end things now.

And so they had broken up… taking a break Ron had called it. Whatever it was called, Hermione felt that it was not a temporary thing; there was too much pain involved. Too much had been said to ever be unsaid. She sat, crying softly while Crookshanks kneaded her thigh and purred, trying to comfort the young witch. She cried for what seemed an eternity, mourning the loss of her first, real relationship and the unfairness of having to end it.

Hermione awoke with a jerk, startling Crookshanks who was curled up in her lap. Giving a disgruntled flick of his tail, the big cat stretched and hopped off of her lap, ambling into the kitchen to eat. Checking her watch Hermione saw that she had only been asleep for a couple of hours.

A determined thought was sitting in her mind, nurtured while she had slept; she was going to take the break she had wanted. She was not going to mope around in the flat feeling depressed over Christmas. She was going to get away, enjoy some peace and quiet in a more attractive setting. She was going to go to Ireland!

Two years ago she and Ron had visited a cabin up in the mountains, overlooking Galway Bay, a small holiday home that an elderly wizarding couple owned. The owners had told her that they hardly ever went there anymore; the air was too fresh for their old bones. As long as they left it tidy they were happy for her and Ron to visit it as often as they liked.

The cabin was nestled in a snowy mountain range, remote and beautiful, far from any Muggle homes. It had been the escape that Ron and Hermione had needed after the long winter in England. Whilst there they had contacted Seamus Finnigan, who lived further down the coast, near Limerick. Seamus had given them the tour of his home town, his family had them over for dinner and they had renewed their friendship. The three of them had kept in touch afterwards and visited each other occasionally; Seamus had visited the Burrow and he and Ron had become good friends again.

Hermione had been surprised by Seamus; he had changed quite a lot since their last year at Hogwarts. Before he had been a little clumsy and accident prone, and more than a little untidy in his appearance; a bit slob-like in fact. It seemed that he had grown up quickly. Now he was always polite and helpful, so kind and sweet. He had taken loads of photographs using a camera he had picked up whilst they wandered around town and had sent copies over to Hermione to share with Ron.

She had even had a frank and detailed discussion with him, about his feelings for a mysterious witch that he refused to name. He had been smitten with this mysterious woman, as far as Hermione could see, for some time, but he didn't think he was good enough for her. Apparently Seamus' secret crush was already with someone else, hence the difficulties he was having letting her know how he felt. Personally, Hermione thought that it was Susan Bones, but Seamus refused to say. Hermione had advised him to keep in contact, to subtly let her know how he felt and hope that she felt the same way.

"You never know what may happen, Seamus. She may come to realise that she likes you more than her current boyfriend. Don't give up hope," she had said. Hermione wondered whether anything had come of that yet. Maybe she would send him an owl, after the holidays.

Hermione felt that her mind was made up now. She wanted to enjoy the peace and quiet, walk in the cold, crisp mountain air and think about what she wanted from her life now. Determined to put her plan into action as quickly as possible, Hermione packed, digging out her old Hogwarts trunk. Within minutes, thanks to her considerable magical prowess, she was fully packed and ready to go.

Nervously, she conjured her Patronus, the wispy, ghostly otter seeming to pour out of her wand and then swim around her head. Raising her wand she said, "To the occupant, my name is Hermione and I stayed at this cabin two years ago. I would like to stay there for the Christmas holidays. Please can you let me know if this is possible? A message can be sent back with my Patronus."

It wasn't perfect but it was the best she could come up with, especially as her heart was pounding with nerves. Focussing on the destination she waved her wand in a complicated pattern and the Otter swirled in a circle twice before vanishing. Sitting then, perched on the edge of her seat, she waited for her Patronus to return. She couldn't understand why she was so nervous! It felt like her very existence depended on the answer from Ireland and every minute felt like an hour.

After a lifetime Hermione leapt to her feet, as her Patronus swam in through the window. Crookshanks, who had curled up on the arm of Hermione's chair, gave a hiss as he was, once again, startled into wakefulness. Growling low in his throat he cast a baleful look at the sparkling, ghost-like Patronus and stalked away, his tail more bushy than usual. Hermione barely noticed as she stood, her Patronus hovering in front of her; she heard her own voice come from the otter's mouth, _"The cabin is empty. No-one has stayed there for some time."_

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. She could go. She wouldn't have the chance of Ron turning up unexpectedly; she was going to get away from London for a few days to a place where she could think! Feeling happier than she had for a long time Hermione hurried to bundle Crookshanks into his travel basket. She threw on her winter coat, scarf and gloves, jammed her hat over her unruly hair and, with a happy smile, Disapparated.


	2. Peace and Goodwill

**Chapter Notes:**

Disclaimer: I own nothing! The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story.

The plot and characterisations associated with this story are the authors own mad ramblings and should be taken as such!

Many thanks to my Beta – Kissy Fishy – for agreeing to read another one of my stories for me!

SPOLIER ALERT: Please note that there are spoilers in this story. If you haven't read "Deathly Hallows" then parts of this story will give away certain events, mainly by telling you who died. Don't think there are any major spoilers in this chapter though - I do take liberties with JKR's world by giving Mr & Mrs Finnigan first names... well, they needed them!

**Chapter 2: Peace and Goodwill; with a side-order of Tension**

With a sharp, echoing CRACK, Hermione appeared on an almost deserted mountain plain. All around her was a large open field of snow, small hummocks and crevices dotting the landscape. She started walking towards the only signs of habitation on the mountain; a small, squat log cabin with the storm shutters securely fastened against the chill weather.

A short time later the door to the cabin swung inwards and Hermione dragged her trunk and Crookshanks' basket inside. She looked into the cabin, her memory momentarily travelling back to happier times.

From the front door the cabin was a wide open lounge area, the bedroom and bathroom next to each other on the left side of the building; along the back wall. The door to the bedroom was almost directly opposite the front door and Hermione could see that the linen certainly needed cleaning. In front of the bedroom doors was a large and comfortably appointed sitting area, taking up the front portion of the cabin, with a large fireplace set in the front wall. A dining area, with a table and four chairs, was positioned on the right side of the front door. Beyond the dining area, again along the back wall, was the small, but well stocked, kitchen area.

Sighing happily at the peace that washed over her upon seeing this place again, she hung up her coat and winter gear on the hooks next to the door. She closed the door, let Crookshanks out of his basket and set to work cleaning. Hermione spent most of her first day warming the place up; using Scouring Charms to clean the dust and cobwebs from the whole cabin and conjuring up some decorations for the Christmas holiday. A quick trip to Diagon Alley provided her with food and drink for the next few days and she spent the extra couple of galleons on a nice bottle of wine; to hell with the expense, she thought to herself.

Later that evening she tried to relax. She sat, curled up on the sofa in her long night shirt and knickers, seemingly totally at ease. The door was sealed against the cold and the freshly cleaned cabin had a refreshing smell. All around her the beautiful Christmas decorations, twisted and sparkled in the firelight, but Hermione didn't see them. Events kept coming back to her; she still felt upset at the way she and Ron had shouted at each other. She glared intently at the fire, twisting and turning her wine glass. The longer she thought about the fight, the more the anger overtook her sadness at the break up. He had _known _her feelings; she had _told_ him precisely what she wanted last Christmas and _again_ when Ginny's bombshell hit. She had told him that she wanted to do something else this year, go somewhere else. Just get away.

But he hadn't listened… or he hadn't believed. Either way, it was over.

Hermione woke the next morning to the sound of knocking. Still half asleep, she half fell out of bed and stumbled towards the front door, rearranging her night shirt so it sat a little more modestly. She gave her hair a half-hearted run through with her fingers before giving it up as a bad job.

Reaching the door, she pulled back the curtain to see what appeared to be a floating basket, full to the brim, its contents covered in a red and white gingham cloth. Blinking in the bright light, she refocused and saw that the basket was being carried by someone but couldn't see who.

Opening the door, Hermione was stunned when she recognised the face peering around the edge of the basket. "Seamus!" she cried, happily.

Surprised, the young, sandy-haired man nearly dropped the basket. "Hermione?" he said. Glancing down at her he took in her dishevelled, just-got-out-of-bed hair and state of near-nakedness and nearly swallowed his tongue. He could tell that the only thing between him and a full frontal was the shirt (which, frankly, was far too short for this weather) and what appeared to be, Merlin save him, pink, lacy knickers. He coughed and quickly averted his gaze from her bare thighs, his cheeks flaming red.

Hermione hadn't even noticed, so pleased she was to see him. Dragging him through the door Hermione hugged him, asking how he knew she was here; why _he_ was here too.

Still in a state of surprise, Seamus offered Hermione the basket and said, "It's from me mam. Just a few things she wanted to give to whoever was staying up here to say 'Hi!' We didn't know it was you guys staying here." Seamus pulled his hat and gloves off as Hermione took the basket to the dining room table. Trying not to watch Hermione walk, he looked around the cabin. "We've just recently moved to the little village at the bottom of the mountain; can see the cabin from there. I saw the smoke from the chimney and me mam sent me up." He grinned, "Made me walk too, said it was too risky to Apparate with the basket."

Moving around the lounge area, Seamus admired the decorations, stopping in front of the tree and whistling in appreciation. "So where's Ron?" he asked, smiling, "Lazy fecker still in bed?" There was the crash of breaking glass behind him and Seamus spun towards Hermione.

"Sorry Seamus!" she said, tears already falling as she crouched to clear up the shattered jam jar. Mrs Finnigan's finest _'Many Berry Preserve'_ leaked over the bare wood floor. "It-it slipped. Haha! What a klutz!" Laughing nervously, Hermione started to gather the fragments of glass.

Seamus stood rooted to the spot for a moment in surprise. Hermione was never clumsy, and certainly wouldn't cry over dropping a jam jar. Something bad had happened between her and Ron and an awful part, deep inside him, opened an eye and sniffed the air hopefully.

Hermione gave a sudden cry of pain as a sliver of glass sliced open her palm and this broke through Seamus' surprise. In a moment he had moved across the room and crouched next to her, gripping her injured arm at the wrist. His other arm wrapped around her shoulders as he led her over to the kitchen area, helping her step over the broken glass. "Come on, lets get you cleaned up." he said quietly, ignoring her protests that she was okay. Seeing that tears were still falling freely, that her shoulders were shaking with repressed sobs, Seamus doubted that she was fine at all and said so. "Come off it, Hermione, you feeding me crap now?" he said, turning on the cold tap in the kitchen and holding Hermione's hand under the stream. "You were crying before you even cut your hand. And, personally, I think it's something to do with Ron. You guys have a fight?"

Hermione gave a coughing sob and leant her head on Seamus' shoulder, crying freely now. Seamus retrieved a clean tissue and Hermione dabbed at her eyes. Slowly, with many stops to blow her nose, Hermione told Seamus what had happened; the awful Christmases, the fighting and arguing. Hermione told him that she felt this break up was permanent; she couldn't see a way back from this.

His heart was doing back flips as Seamus drew his wand over the cut on Hermione's palm; a healing charm knitting the flesh together again. "I'm really sorry to hear that, hun," he said, quietly, "Thought you guys were good." He determinedly didn't look her in the eye, sure that she would see something in his gaze that spoke of his longing. As the cut healed Seamus lifted Hermione's hand to his mouth and planted a kiss on it. "All better." he said with a smile, looking into Hermione's eyes and then away quickly.

As he moved back towards the broken jar, Hermione stood by the sink feeling the strange, burning tingle in her palm. As she watched Seamus use his wand to remove the broken glass and spilled preserve from the floor, she wondered at the look in Seamus' eyes when he had looked at her. It had been… strange. She moved across to the basket again as Seamus gathered his winter gear and started pull it back on.

"Well," he said, heartily, "I best get going." He drew in a deep breath and let it out in a rush. "Listen. If you're here by yourself… how 'bout you spend Christmas day with us? Me mam always does more than the three of us can eat, and she'd be well pleased to have you. Help you get over… things. Christmas isn't the time to be on your lonesome!"

Hermione smiled and said she would be delighted to come down for Christmas. She loved the Finnigan family, always so friendly and welcoming.

"Excellent," Seamus said, pulling his hat on, "Well, I'll pop back up tomorrow, maybe? Go for a little walk with you in the fresh air, if you fancy? We can have a talk about stuff. If she'd known it was you up here, I reckon me mam would have come up herself. Especially if she'd known you were by yourself."

Hermione grinned, looking up at Seamus with a fond smile, "To be honest, I'm glad it was just you that came up here."

Seamus coughed at that and stuttered slightly, mumbling into his scarf. There was a slightly awkward silence as Seamus suddenly found himself tongue-tied as he met Hermione's gaze.

Hermione blushed when she realised what she had said; her nightshirt suddenly seemed so much shorter than she remembered and she was very aware that she had been wandering around, practically naked. Very aware of Seamus' eyes on her she mumbled something about not being dressed to meet his mother and busied herself with unpacking the basket, her face flaming hotly.

Seamus tried to regain his composure, whilst Hermione made small talk nervously; wondering, out loud, what the weather would be like tomorrow. Composure seemed to be elusive however as Hermione's movements, in unpacking the basket, kept shifting the material of her shirt up to reveal her knickers. He couldn't avoid getting an eyeful of the curve of her buttocks and the tops of her thighs. Practically choking on his words, as his throat threatened to strangle him, he quickly excused himself and promised to come back tomorrow, around 11 o'clock.

Hermione focussed completely on the basket until she heard the sharp CRACK as Seamus Disapparated from outside the cabin. Sinking into one of the chairs, still flushing heavily, she realised that Seamus had grown into a man… a handsome man at that. She had already noticed that his previous clumsiness had gone and that he had matured. His shoulders were broader, and his arms stronger. His voice was a little deeper now and that, coupled with his accent, was actually quite nice, Hermione realised.

"Come off it Hermione," she muttered to herself, remembering the heat in his eyes. Standing she tugged her night shirt a little lower around her thighs. "He didn't mean anything by it. What do you expect the man to do, if you wander around half naked?"

The next morning was Christmas Eve; Hermione was up and dressed long before Seamus was due to arrive, desperate to avoid a repeat of yesterday's embarrassment. Once Seamus arrived the pair of them took a turn about the mountain's snowy plain, looking out at the view over Galway Bay and chatting about Hogwarts.

They laughed at the memories of their early years. Seamus recalled the time, when practicing the _'Aguamenti'_' charm in their 6th year, he had accidentally blasted Professor Flitwick off his feet. "Made me write lines too, he did!" Seamus laughed, "_'I am a wizard, not a baboon brandishing a stick!'"_

"Well, I think you were more concerned with Apparating practice starting than you were with Charms class!" Hermione said with a giggle. "Have you been 'getting' Fergus like you planned?" Hermione remembered Seamus saying that his cousin, Fergus, used to Apparate near to him, trying to scare him. Seamus had planned on returning the favour once he had his license.

Seamus grimaced and said, "Yeah, well… did it a few times, you know, to get him back kind of thing. Last time though he was… sorta… busy, in his room… by himself." Seamus waved his arms in front of his face as if to dismiss the unpleasant memory. "We've agreed to stop doing it now. Too risky!" Hermione was doubled over, laughing hard at the thought and Seamus joined in. Her laugh did something funny to his stomach, a strange fluttery feeling. He could listen to her laugh all day.

As it approached one o'clock Seamus invited Hermione down to the mountain for some lunch. Happily she linked arms with him and they made their way down the slope to the little hamlet of Knock. Seamus explained that the four houses in the hamlet all belonged to magical families and the nearest Muggle homes were a good 10 miles away.

"Makes for peace and quiet and lets us really go a little crazy with celebrations; especially at New Year!" he said, "Mrs Boland, next door to us, she can produce some amazing spark displays; better than the fireworks me dad brought back from Galway one year!"

Margaret Finnigan was delighted to see Hermione, greeting her with a warm hug and a demand that she stay for dinner so Mr Finnigan could say hello, when he got home from work. Hermione accepted and spent the rest of the day with the Finnigans; Margaret made them all some lunch while asking what Hermione had been up to since they had last met.

Later that evening, Mr Finnigan (who insisted that Hermione call him Rod) arrived home and declared this to be a good day all round. Opening a bottle of wine the four of them raised their glasses in a Christmas salute. Rodney Finnigan insisted that Hermione, not only stay for dinner, but also for the night. Hermione grinned but declined, saying that she had Crookshanks with her at the cabin and needed to look after him.

"Well," Mr Finnigan said, "We'll have to wait till you arrive later in the day then, so we will!"

Hermione smiled a little guiltily, knowing that her main reason for declining wasn't Crookshanks; it had been what she had seen, quite by accident, earlier on. While heading for the bathroom she had seen Seamus' name on one of the doors in the hallway. It was slightly ajar and, curious, knowing that Seamus and his mum were safely downstairs, she pushed open the door and peeked in. Surprised at what she had found, she had allowed the door to open further, even going in a few steps.

The room was neat and tidy, a surprise right from the start. But the main surprise had been the photographs – there was not a single shelf, surface or wall that didn't have at least one photo of Hermione. Hermione and Seamus; Hermione, Ginny and Harry; Hermione alone – every photo had Hermione in it. Even stranger were those that had Seamus, Ron and her in… in most of them, the Seamus in the picture kept pushing Ron out of the frame, leaving Hermione alone with her Irish friend. Seamus was actually sitting on Ron in one of them!

Hermione had stared at the pictures for several minutes, completely forgetting her need to pee. She saw photos of her from their trip to Spain with Harry and Ginny; she saw herself in her bikini getting ready to jump into the pool. The picture version of herself was waving and smiling out at her. It was like a shrine, she realised, and she didn't think it was a shrine to their holidays!

Hermione thought back to some of the times that Seamus had visited her and Ron. She remembered that she had caught Seamus watching her at times; quick glances, nervous words and close encounters that had led to awkward silences. Their conversation about the "mysterious witch" that he had feelings for came crashing back to her. Merlin's beard! It was her! _She_ was the witch he couldn't ask out, she was the one he had feelings for.

Stunned, Hermione backed out of the room and pulled the door closed again. The rest of the day had passed in a blur for Hermione and before she knew it Mr and Mrs Finnigan were hugging her and wishing her a good night.

"We'll see you around midday then me dear," said Mrs Finnigan, "Don't be late now! Dinner starts at two sharp!" Hermione promised that she would be there. Margaret smiled, a little slyly Hermione thought, "It's been great seeing you again. Seamus was so pleased to see you… came bouncing down the mountain all flushed and happy…"

"Mam!" Seamus interrupted, his face blazing in the light of the hallway.

"Ah, relax yourself boy," Mr Finnigan said with a laugh, punching his son on the shoulder, "No harm with being happy to see pretty girl at Christmas, eh?" With that Seamus' parents left the two of them to say goodnight.

"Well," said Seamus. His face felt like it was on fire. "I… uh… guess I'll see you in the mornin' then? I'll come get you around 11 again, shall I?"

Hermione nodded, biting her lip, very aware of Seamus' proximity. Merlin! He was actually very good looking. She was sure that it wasn't the wine she'd had at dinner talking either. "Night Seamus." she said, moving in for a quick hug.

What followed, Hermione thought later, could only be described as "an awkward moment"; the pair of them hugged but they both, quite by accident, put their heads in the same direction and very nearly kissed. Laughing nervously they patted each other on the back and Hermione planted a quick kiss on his cheek before hurrying away, hearing the door close quickly behind her. Reaching the path outside the Finnigans' garden Hermione took out her wand. She felt her face burning, no doubt beetroot red again! As quickly as possible she Apparated; appearing back inside the cabin and scaring Crookshanks for the third time in as many days.

Sinking onto the sofa she put her face in her hands with a moan of embarrassment. What was she going to do now?


	3. Danger in the Snow, Love in the Heart

**Chapter Notes:**

Disclaimer: I own nothing! The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story.

The plot and characterisations associated with this story are the authors own mad ramblings and should be taken as such!

Many thanks to my Beta – Kissy Fishy – for agreeing to read another one of my stories for me!

SPOLIER ALERT: Please note that there are spoilers in this story. If you haven't read "Deathly Hallows" then parts of this story will give away certain events, mainly by telling you who died. Actually I don't think much in the way of spoilers happens in this chapter either... just some action and maybe a little fluffiness :)

**Chapter 3: Danger in the Snow; Love in the Heart**

10am found Hermione walking the snow field by herself, thinking about yesterday. Seamus…he what? Loved her? At the very least he was smitten with her! What a mess. Nothing good could come of this… not now that she knew his secret. No chance of things being the same again. And his parents knew! That much was obvious. She knew that there was no way she was getting back together with Ron but what would this do to Seamus' friendship with him? If she was no longer in the picture would Seamus still stay friends with Ron? Or would Seamus just want to stay in touch with her?

She walked through the snow, feeling fresh flakes start to fall. In her haste to get out of the cabin she had forgotten her scarf and gloves; at least she had her large heavy, winter coat. Tucking her hands under her arms to keep them warm Hermione staggered her way up a steady slope, her heavy boots sinking in the deep snow.

Why was she worrying about this? It was almost like she was thinking of doing something with Seamus! She blushed suddenly as her mind was immediately filled with images of the sandy-haired man and the sort of things he probably wanted to do to her… and, frankly, seeing those images, she found herself slightly turned on by the thought.

"Oh God!" she yelled, suddenly frustrated by the situation, "Why are men so difficult!"

A loud, startled snort echoed around the plain at her outburst. Looking quickly to her left Hermione saw a large, shaggy head lift out of a nearby snow drift, its mouth dripping with fresh blood. The creature's head was huge, a large muzzle covered in red snow, two large horns that glinted golden in the winter sunlight. Hermione could only stare at it in shock; the creature was clearly magical, but her senses abandoned her as she took in the size of the beast. It was twice the size of the largest bull Hermione had ever seen but its skin, under it's coating of snow, was a sickly, greyish-purple; its humped back shuddered and the creature opened its mouth wide and roared in anger. A large, scaly tail swished menacingly through the air behind it. The analytical part of Hermione's mind decided that it looked like a cross between a dragon and a bull; that part of Hermione's mind desperately wanted to name it, but the name eluded her.

"Oh, shit." whispered Hermione, half crouching. She hoped desperately that, if she made herself smaller, the monster would ignore her and go back to its meal.

No such luck.

With another roar the huge beast started to lumber towards her, only slightly hampered by the snow. Hermione took in the sight of huge, four-toed feet lifting out of the snow and fumbled frantically for her wand.

"Double shit!" she squeaked, turning tail and running down the slope as fast as she could. Pointing her wand blindly over her shoulder, Hermione fired off jinx after hex, charm after curse. More than once she heard a roar from the creature behind but a quick glance revealed that the monster had not slowed and was, in fact, gaining steadily. "_Impedimenta!_" she yelled, turning and pointing directly at the creature's legs. The spell ricocheted off at an angle, completely ineffectual!

"Wha…? _Incarcerous!" _Hermione felt her heart sink as the ropes, snaking out of her wand, struck and slid off of the creature's hide. "_Everte Statum! Stupify! Sectumsempra!_" She continued to back away as she cast, forsaking escape for accuracy. "_Pertrificus Totallus!_"

Every spell struck the creature and glanced off, the bolt of light disappearing across the snow field along with her hope. Just then, that tiny part of her mind that had continued to gather evidence, piped up. "A Graphorn." she mumbled, finally naming the terrifying creature that bore down on her. In a near panic she tried to focus her mind; _destination _(the cabin), _determination_ (oh yes, plenty of that!), _deliberation (desperation_ seemed to be getting in the way!).

Hermione closed her eyes, blotting out the terrible creature as it swung its head to strike her with those massive, golden horns. She felt intense pressure on her abdomen and the sensation of flying suddenly; her wand flew out of her hand and she landed heavily on the snowy rocks. The back of her head cracked painfully against the stone, rattling her teeth and she felt a burning pain across her stomach.

Opening her eyes she realised that she was lying on the mountainside, having been thrown by the Graphorn. Her coat had been ripped open; her jumper and t-shirt were torn in a long line across her belly and blood was beginning to stain the cloth. The sharp point of the monster's horn had cut her open!

The monster continued to advance and Hermione scrambled backwards, panic starting to set in now. She had lost her wand! All she could do now was run, but her legs wouldn't respond. The monster was closing in. Hermione's hand suddenly dropped through a hole, a concealed crevice on the plain and she screamed in pain as the jagged rock cut into her arm.

The monster reared above her just as a gout of red flame enveloped its head, washing over it like water. The creature roared in pain as the fire dripped onto its neck before dissipating.

"You like that did you, ya fecker!" yelled a familiar, a blessedly welcome voice. "How 'bout another? _Confringo!_" The blast of red flame struck the creature on the side of the head, this time a glancing blow that shot into the air.

"Seamus." Hermione whispered in horror as the Graphorn turned towards its assailant. Looking over, Hermione saw Seamus stood firmly, wand held ready to attack again. She screamed his name as the Graphorn lowered its head and charged.

"_Confringo _ya fecking shit bag!" Seamus' blast of fire struck the monster full in the face, causing it to falter in its charge; but it didn't stop it and Seamus took the opportunity to run. "Hermione!" he shouted, "Get back to the cabin!"

Hermione could only watch in mounting horror as Seamus ran fleet footed across the snow plain, blasting the Graphorn with fire. She heard him swearing and cursing the creature and her stomach clenched in fear. Desperately she struggled to free her arm from the hole, tearing her sleeve as she did so. Leaping to her feet she cast around for her wand, conscious that Seamus was fighting alone against that beast. Seeing it a short distance away, she ran to it, snatched it up and sprinted towards the battle.

Seamus was backing up now, rapidly peppering the Graphorn with spell after spell, most of them being deflected by the creature's spell resistant hide. He was rapidly approaching the edge of the snow field, a steep drop to the valley floor behind him. The monster struck out with its horns and Seamus dodged to the side, avoiding getting impaled. Instead the horns swept him up and through the air. He landed on the edge of the cliff, bounced once and dropped out of sight with a shout.

Hermione screamed; her mind instantly pictured Seamus' body, tumbling and falling, smashing into the rocks below. In panic she ran forward, striking out at the Graphorn. The monster turned with a roar and its tail struck Hermione solidly in the ribs and knocked her flying. Unable to stop herself, she slid over the edge of the cliff after Seamus.

She dropped a few feet and landed in a large snow drift. Surprised to be alive Hermione started to sit up but was pushed back down, Seamus draping his body over hers. With a finger to his lips he waved his wand; silently the snow shifted to cover them completely, a pocket of air surrounding them.

Their faces were close together, breathing shallow; Seamus was staring up at the roof of their snowy shelter as if he could see through it. Hermione looked up at his face, seeing the trickle of blood from the shallow cut on his temple, the beads of sweat standing on his forehead; very aware of the weight of his body. They both jumped as the creature, still up on the snow field, roared; frustration evident in the sound. They listened as the stamp of its large feet seemed to fade into the distance.

"I think it's gone," Seamus whispered, looking down at Hermione. Their gazes locked together and Hermione felt an ache building within her at the look in Seamus' eyes; desire and need burning in their bright blue depths. Hermione drew a shuddering breath, trying to steady herself. With a grin Seamus, "So… something different for Christmas, wasn't it?"

For a moment Hermione found herself unable to speak, desperately wanting to kiss him. To kiss him for so many reasons; he was here, he was beautiful, he had saved her life, he wanted to love her; and she wanted him too. She realised it in that moment of crackling tension that stretched between them; she really did want him.

She was moving closer to him before she realised it; part of her screaming that she needed to kiss him, another part that was half-heartedly trying to stop her. "You're bleeding," she whispered, gently touching Seamus' temple, "Need to sort that out." Her voice was a little breathy and she could feel an ache in her chest.

Seamus' hand on her shoulder tightened slightly and he smiled, "You too. Uh… you… uh, haha." Seamus stumbled over his words as he glanced down and saw that her clothes had been ripped open. He could see that she had been scratched but thankfully it looked minor. The main thing was the amount of bare flesh that was exposed; it was making it hard to concentrate. Desperately trying to raise his eyes to her face again he managed to get as far as her breasts, still confined within the fabric, and his breathing shuddered as Hermione took a deep breath. "I… ah…" Seamus stuttered again.

Hermione smiled as Seamus finally looked into her eyes. They were so close; their lips moments from touching without either of them remembering when they had moved closer.

Hermione felt that she was floating, buoyed by the thrill of survival and this strange crackling energy that seemed to surround the pair of them. She felt Seamus' lips brush hers, ever so softly. A small whimper escaped her mouth, a breath of air rushing free as she suddenly felt a wash of desire rush through her body at the Irish boy… the Irish _man's_ touch… he was most certainly a man now, she thought as she slipped a hand around his waist. Hermione felt her eyes close and tilted her head back a little, offering herself to Seamus.

Just then a loud and mournful cry echoed across the mountain plain; it ended the moment, broke the spell and the pair jumped as if burned. Their snowy shelter collapsed around them and they sat up, looking around. Hermione looked upwards, seeing a vulture like bird with a sharp beak swooping overhead. Its feathers were greenish black and its song low, sorrowful; it left Hermione with a slightly depressed feeling. "Wha…?" she mumbled, sat in the snow, still recovering from the last few moments.

Seamus cleared his throat, standing up and offering Hermione a hand up. "We need to go. It's gonna rain in a bit and I don't think it'll be gentle, not the way winter's been here so far." Hermione looked at him questioningly and he smiled, pointing to the bird, still swooping around the plain. "That's an Auguery. It's also called an…"

"Irish Phoenix!" Hermione interrupted, suddenly intrigued and excited, taking Seamus' hand and scrambling to her feet. "I can vaguely remember an essay we did on them at school. They predict the weather don't they?"

"Kinda. They mainly just tell you when it's about to rain. They hunt when it's pissing down and it's the only time they sing." he said, looking back at Hermione and finding her gazing raptly at the bird soaring overhead. He stared at her profile, marvelling at her skin, her eyes, the way her hair still retained that wild, bushy quality he had always loved. She was so beautiful to him, especially now when she looked so vulnerable, watching a new creature perform aerial manoeuvres above them.

He knew then, truly knew, how he felt for her. The times he had thought about her before; at her flat, at The Burrow, even back at Hogwarts – they were driven by a desire to have her, to make love to her. Now he knew that he loved her. Loved her deeply and it was so mad of him to do so because Ron was his friend; one of his best friends! The unwritten rule of friendship meant that he could never have her. But… what if… could he deal with losing Ron's friendship over this? To have her as his… wouldn't it be worth it? He just didn't know.

Listening to the Auguery's song Hermione grimaced. "It's kind of depressing," she said, turning back to Seamus, meeting his gaze, "isn't it?" she finished quietly, with a small hitch in her breath. The way he was looking at her was so intense. She smiled slightly, again filled with the urge to kiss him.

"Yeah… a little." He swallowed and smiled nervously. "Um, may I?" he said.

Hermione dared to hope and nodded, lips pressed firmly together in hope, shifting her weight slightly. Her eyes drifted closed as she felt Seamus' hand lift the bottom of her hooded jumper and t-shirt and graze lightly across her skin. Gasping at the sudden jolt of pleasure that that small touch elicited, she felt a moment of disappointment when Seamus said, "_Episky._" and she realised that he was simply healing the cut to her stomach.

"Oh." she said, a little disappointedly, opening her eyes again. She had an inkling of the thoughts running through Seamus' head and knew that Ron' displeasure and this unwritten rule featured heavily. Shaking her head she quickly returned the favour, healing the cut on his head. "_Tergeo_" she whispered then, removing the blood from Seamus' face and flicking it away from her wand tip.

He grinned and said, "Ta. Me Mam woulda killed me if I'd rolled in for Christmas dinner all bashed up!"

Hermione smiled and took a deep breath, preparing herself. She wanted to say something, to ask him about the photos, about his feelings but the thought of voicing those thoughts… well, it terrified her. "Seamus… I want… um; I wanted to say something…"

Seamus had been checking that the Graphorn had really gone when Hermione spoke. Hearing the nerves in her voice he dared to dream, just for a moment but steeled himself because he was determined to be strong. Looking into her eyes he tried for confident and felt that he failed ever so slightly. "Yeah? What… uh, what's on your mind?"

Hermione drew a breath and spoke rapidly, "Just-wanted-to-say-thank-you-for-saving-me!" Stepping forward she threw her arms around Seamus' neck and pulled him into a hug, "So, thank you." she said, a little breathily, her eyes closed and biting her lip so she didn't make another sound.

Seamus' knees weakened at the feeling of her breath on his ear and held her waist tentatively. _"Merlin! I think this witch is gonna kill me!"_ he thought, desperately trying to pretend he couldn't feel Hermione's breasts pressed against his chest… that he couldn't imagine her hands touching him elsewhere and wasn't fantasising about kissing her. Not a simple peck on the lips but a real kiss; one that would make her toes curl and moan his name.

He was determinedly _not_ thinking about that. He laughed in his own mind; who was he kidding? The thought of that kiss was driving him insane with desire. His resolve was weakening with every passing second. _"How could I want this witch so much?" _he thought, _"Is it all forbidden lust? She's Ron's ex so I can't have her… and therefore I want her more?"_ He knew that wasn't the case because he had wanted her for years, long before she and Ron got together.

Clearing his throat again he pulled away from Hermione and took her hand in his. "Come on," he said, "If we run we can make it back to the cabin before it starts raining. You need to get changed before dinner."

Together the pair of them climbed back onto the snow plain and jogged towards the distant cabin. Halfway there Hermione started to feel the rain begin to fall, large, icy drops splashing on her face and neck. "Seamus!" she called, "It's raining!"

He laughed at this and shouted back to her, "You think?"

Just at that moment the heavens opened and a freezing deluge poured from the sky. Hermione screamed with laughter and surprise as she was instantly soaked through. Seamus whooped loudly, shaking his hair out of his eyes. Together they reached the cabin as the wind picked up and the rain started to sting their skin.

Still screaming with laughter, Hermione struggled to open the door to the cabin, the rain lashing at the pair of them. Seamus lent her a hand and together the two of them shouldered the door open, tumbling into the cabin and sprawling on the floor, landing on the large furry rug that Hermione had conjured, seemingly a life time ago.

Seamus, flat on his back, laughed as Crookshanks scrabbled and slipped his way across the floor, away from them; they had narrowly missed landing on the poor cat. The door swung closed again, shutting out the rain and the howling wind.

Hermione was frozen in place as she lay next to Seamus, one leg draped over his, looking down at him through her wet and bedraggled hair. Seamus looked up then and his eyes widened slightly. Lifting a trembling hand, he slowly brushed Hermione's hair away from her face, tucking it gently behind her ear. He smiled nervously as Hermione blushed instantly at his touch.

His voice hoarse and low with pent up desire, Seamus said, "We need to sort these wet clothes out before we catch a cold… me mam would never forgive me." Hermione nodded and sat up, still facing Seamus. Her mind was determined, a need building within her body every moment she looked at him. She quickly pulled her ripped, hooded jumper off over her head, her breath coming faster now.

Seamus' breath caught slightly as he caught a sight of Hermione's skin when her t-shirt came out of her soaked jeans. "I was thinking of using magic…" his voice trailing off as Hermione quickly pulled her equally ripped and blood marked t-shirt off, exposing her white, lacy bra, her breath causing her breasts to heave a little. "Hermione… I…"

Hermione leant over him and pressed her lips to his, silencing him. The kiss was soft and tender and Seamus felt a flush of heat wash through him. It was everything he wanted and more. Hermione pulled back, biting her lip and Seamus whispered, "We can't, Hermione… I want to… but… what about…"

"Don't say his name," she whispered back, "No-one exists but us right now, Seamus."

"You've got needs… I get that… and you might feel like you want to hurt him but this-this-this…" his voice was getting a little frantic now as he read her eyes, seeing them harden with determination as she unzipped his jacket.

"I know how you feel about me Seamus. I saw the photos." She smiled as Seamus blushed and struggled to speak. Shaking her head gently, she sent cold water droplets flicking from her hair. "And, if you want, you can think of this as a Christmas present for the pair of us." she said calmly, her hand slowly working on the buttons on Seamus' shirt, "You gave me something I needed this week… perspective. And you've also given me the knowledge that there are better people to give my life too than Ronald Weasley!" Pulling open his shirt she ran her hands over Seamus' chest, luxuriating in the softness of his skin and the firmness of his stomach. She swung her leg over so that she straddled him completely, flicking her hair over one shoulder and planting a gentle kiss on his stomach. "Now… I can give you something that you want… me, Seamus Finnigan. And, right now, we want each other."

She kissed him lightly again, higher up his chest. His breath was rapid as she traced her hand over his chest and up to his face. Her breath caught as she felt his arms wrap around her waist then. But still he held back.

"He's one of my best friends…" he said quietly, one last attempt to stop this, half hearted though it was. By now he was burning with desire. "I don't want this to be… just a one night thing… just a rebound…"

Hermione placed one finger on his lips and said in a quiet but firm voice, "You are not a rebound Seamus. And I don't want to hear about this stupid rule you men have either!" She removed her finger, kissing softly where it had been, feeling him gently kiss her back. "I've had a chance to really think about you, this week. And if you say another word that does not revolve around us making love, I will blast you like we blasted that Graphorn… your choice Finnigan." She grinned mischievously, imitating his accent, "Now kiss me ya feckin' fecker!

Hermione kissed him again and this time Seamus kissed her back, with passion, all restraint gone. Moaning in pleasure the two duelled with their tongues as Seamus sat up suddenly and Hermione slid her legs out to sit comfortably on his thighs, sliding his coat and shirt off of his arms. Removing it completely Hermione rubbed herself over his crotch, the movement pleasuring them both. Her hands cupped his face as Seamus ran his hands up her back and over her soft, pale skin.

Wrapping her arms around his shoulders and head she sighed as he applied his mouth to her throat and neck. "You won't be a rebound Seamus." she moaned, "I've been falling for you for a long time, but I think I've only just realised it." Feeling her body burning with desire she kisses Seamus deeply, feeling his hands deftly unclip her bra, the pair of them moving to let it fall away.

Crookshanks, curled up on the rug before the fire, opened his eyes. He watched his mistress lead the young Irish man into the bedroom, saw the door swing silently closed. Stretching luxuriantly he uncurled, laying out and warming his belly now. Maybe he could get a bit of peace now. Closing his eyes again, he fell swiftly asleep.

It was some time before the witch and wizard were aware of anything but each other. Slowly they regained their senses again, feeling their heart rates returning slowly to normal. Seamus lay on top of her, still resting inside of her, his face buried into Hermione's neck. He lifted his head and smiled down at her, his handsome face slightly flushed from their exertions. Hermione smiled up at him, gazing into his wonderfully bright, blue eyes.

"Happy Christmas Hermione," he whispered, kissing her gently on the lips.

Hermione cupped his cheek with one hand and said, "Happy Christmas Seamus." Looking into his eyes, she saw nothing but love shining in them. Gazing into their bright blue depths filled her with a light, warm feeling, and she felt her heart constrict.

The pair of them shifted to lie on their sides, still closely entwined together. Hermione could feel the warmth of Seamus' release on her thighs and the steady beating of his heart on her breast. Tiredness stole over them both as they kissed again, drifting slowly towards a gentle repose.

"Hermione," Seamus whispered, "I wanted you to know that this is the best Christmas I have ever had. Normally I just spend time with the neighbours. It's not that much fun." His heart jumped a little at the smile that lit up her face – Merlin she was so beautiful.

"Your mam's expecting us for dinner," Hermione murmured, sleepily. She snuggled closer into his chest, her arms stroking his shoulders and back.

"She'll understand if we're a bit late. She'll be happy, I'm sure." Seamus smiled and pulled her closer, "Not that I'm likely to tell her about us just yet."

Hermione floated in the gentle twilight of sleep, a small, satisfied smile on her lips. Seamus was still awake, just barely. Looking at her beautiful face, relaxed in sleep, he smiled. With one finger he gently traced the curve of her jaw. He knew they shouldn't give in to sleep – they _were _expected at dinner soon and despite what he had said he knew his mam was likely to shoot first and ask questions later. Right now though… he had no place he'd rather be.

Smiling, he whispered, "I've wanted to love you for so long, Hermione. I know that it will cause problems with… some people, us being together like this… and… I know that this may seem wrong but… I know now that it's the right thing to do." Seamus kissed the end of her nose. "Merlin's beard, you are perfect. And you are perfect for me."

With this, he drifted off to sleep, his mind filled with images of places he had never seen before; snowy forests, city landscapes, quiet village restaurants… in all of the images he was hand in hand with Hermione… it was a beautiful Christmas day… and they were happy.

Nothing else mattered.

The cabin was filled with a peaceful silence as the three occupants slept - Seamus and Hermione tangled in peaceful sleep on the bed, while Crookshanks slept peacefully on the rug. Around them, the Christmas lights that Hermione had conjured throughout the cabin, twinkled and shone.

Outside, on the mountainside, the rain stopped and the wind died away, leaving the plain peaceful as well. Unseen by human eyes, a soft snow began to fall, lightly covering the cabin with a soft, fluffy blanket.

FIN

A/N: This story was written for the Granger Enchanted Christmas "Love Actually" Challenge (but has been edited to remove the really rude bits! I liked writing and planning this story so much that I decided to clean it up and post it here too. I might do another one with the same relationship (maybe even a continuation)… I like Seamus, he seems like a laugh and his fun filled attitude fits nicely with Hermione… I think so anyway.

Keeping with the Love Actually theme I took inspiration from one of the songs in the film and incorporated the feeling and words into some of the story. Prizes for guessing which song it is!

Hope you enjoyed this one.

Merry Christmas everyone!


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